Italiano a seguire quando ho tempo 🙂

Of course this wasn’t written “today”.

Today I did something amazing.
I did one of those things you see women doing on TV shows when they find out they have a short time to live. Except as far as I know I’m not going to die soon. Not of a chronic illness anyway.

Today was a day full of thinking (“When is it not?” I hear a little voice say.)

First: I had my first Physiotherapy appointment. My physio Anna Marie said “We’re going to focus on your legs first, so we can get you to walking properly again asap”. I like Anna Marie.

Then, I went to Cambridge centre, to deposit a cheque. Every time I go into town, here or especially London, I become a ghost. I seem to move more slowly, and be aware of everything around me. Every single person, their joys and sorrows, that girl’s funny t-shirt, the man doing his job calming down a frustrated American, people’s kindness, graceful movements, the beauty of a line, of a smile, every leaf moving on every tree. The fun fair setting up, the movement of the buses round the roundabout. There is no way I can describe everything I see, every flower, every animal, every brick and every pipe. I felt swelling love for what surrounded me, apart from very few things, like anonymous brick buildings and cars. But everything else: beautiful, the work of so many people, the lives they contain, all beautiful, the waiter awaiting customers, the couple at the café, the huge swooshes of fruit at the market. I cannot start to name every thing I noticed, and yet every little thing I noticed I wanted to write down, to record somehow, to remember, to stock, to tell people about. I wanted to talk to all the people, be with all the people.

I pedalled back, through the parks and streets and the fun fair. People walking and the dog snarling at my dog and his owner, a young man with short dreads living on one of the boats, holding him back with just a firm voice. And I was, as usual when I’m out and about and feel like a ghost, like an angel out of Wings of Desire, at peace. Yes thoughts they came and went, but mostly there was so much to see, to appreciate, to look at and register, that my own mind was in peace. No thinking about all the million things I normally think about.

I got home, traded my bike for my dog, and took him out. He is a most beautiful dog, I love him so much and it is for him and his 48 kilos of black and fawn beauty as well that I wish I could walk more, get organized, be out there with him, walking loads and loads.

Then I passed the playground. This is the best playground, in Stourbridge common: even the protected swings go higher than most, and it’s got a great sliding rope thing that my daughter loves. A piece of thought reminded me of the big swing there. I told myself “nah”. And then I thought: why not?

So I went back in there, tied Zoom to the fence, and went on the swing.

See the thing is that after my second pregnancy, my body decided to create a fear of heights in me. Even standing on a chair is now dodgy for me. So when I swung on that swing the first time, I felt a thrill, that pain in the middle of my chest, just like on roller coasters before I accepted the fact that I was scared of heights. I thought well, just like the physiotherapist has given me exercises to slowly strengthen my muscles and teach my legs to do stuff “properly”, I could wean myself off at least some fear of heights by swinging on a regular basis.

I carried on swinging despite Zoom’s frequent winging, he was protesting because his idea of a walk didn’t include me swinging through the air with him tied to the fence.

Finally, after an exhilarating swinging ride I got home and looked up the diagnosis the doctor gives of Micheal Scaulfield (yep, he’s cute), the character in Prison Break. The diagnosis is Low Latent Inhibition.

I read that post and, well, a whole new world of possibility opened up for me.

It explained so much, so so much, that I feel I can finally try to experience my life differently. I wish someone had given me this answer before. I wish someone had found the words to explain it to me, as I wish I could explain it to other people I know who live similarly. It’s not pretty, to live like that. Now, that could finally help me overcome my adolescence, possibly at last, possibly for good. I can attempt to be an adult now, at last, at the tender age of 40. So, what do I do now?


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